- 1215 
.P35 
3opy 1 



IN THE FOOTSTEPS 



OF CORTES 



AN ILLUSTRATED LECTURE BY 



HENRY G. PEABODY 






Mexican-Spanish Pronunciation and Accent. 

a is pronounced like English a in father. 

e " " " a in take. 

i " " " einbe. 

o " " " o in bone. 

u " " " oo in spoon. 

j like aspirated h in heal. 

ch, same as in chair. 

u when preceded by q is always silent. 

c is soft before e and i, as in cent. 

c is hard before a, o, u, 1, r, like English k. 

g is hard before a, o, u, 1, r, same as in English. 

g, before e and i, like aspirated h in heal. 

g is silent before ua. Agua is pronounced awa. 

h is always silent. 

11 as though followed by y. Caballero is pronounced cabalyero. 

n as though followed by y. Senor is pronounced senyor. 

q like k in English. Is only found in the combinations que and qui, 

in which the u is silent, 
x usually like s. Tlaxcala is pronounced Tlascala. 
y, as consonant, like y in you. 
y, as vowel, (meaning "and,") like ee. 
Vd., pronounced oostaid, an abbreviation meaning "you." 
Other letters are pronounced as in English. 

The accent is on the penult in words ending in a vowel, or in n or 
s ; on the last syllable in words ending in a consonant. Exceptions 
have the accented syllable marked. 



DEC 30 1918 



©CI.A511138 




IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF CORTES 

Copyright, 1907, 1918, by He nry G. Peab ody, Pasadena, California. 

IN the great problem of human destiny, whenever a crisis demands 
the genius of a Napoleon or a Washington, Providence invariably 
supplies the man to meet it. No chapter in the World's history exem- 
plifies this fact more emphatically than the Mexican conquest ; for no 
other instance is on record where an enterprise of such vastness has 
been consummated, in the face of almost insurmountable obstacles, by 
means of resources created by the genius of a single man. In fact, 
the history of the conquest is necessarily the biography of Hernando 
Cortes, the Conquistador. 

Although the Mexico of today affords few relics of the Spanish 
conquest, yet one who has read Prescott's narrative will find many 
familiar landmarks as he follows the route taken by Cortes in his march 
to the Aztec capital. The steamship journey from New York to Vera 
Cruz lands the passenger at the very spot where Cortes first set foot 
in Montezuma's empire. It also affords a visit to Havana, the harbor 
from which his squadron sailed on its voyage of conquest. Shall we 
not, then, preface our trip to Mexico with a few glimpses of this typi- 
cal Spanish city, which, less than 100 years ago was, next to the City 
of Mexico itself, the most populous in the western hemisphere. 

Late in the afternoon of a clear and bracing day in January, 1899, 
the " Orizaba " left her New York pier and steamed out through the 
Narrows toward the Sandy Hook Lightship. The Lower Bay of New 
York is one of the principal waterways of the commercial world. In 
former years our ships and barques sailed the waters of every sea, and 
carried our commerce to the uttermost corners of the earth. That 
modern institution, the tramp steamer, has practically driven the pict- 
uresque square-rigger from the highways of the sea, but, on rare occa- 
sions they are still seen, and as. we turn the point of Sandy Hook we 
pass one, outward bound. To those who love the sea there is always 



a fascination in the towering pyramid of patched and weatherbeaten 
canvas and the stately and majestic motion it imparts to the homely, 
but substantial, hull beneath. While we are still speculating on the 
destination and cargo of this relic of bygone days we reach the Sandy 
Hook Lightship, the pilot leaves us, our captain assumes command of 
the steamer and turns her prow toward the distant shore of Cuba. 

The sight which greeted our eyes as the " Orizaba " rounded Morro 
Castle and entered the harbor of Havana was a thrilling one. Only a 
few days before American troops had taken possession of the fortifica- 
tions and public buildings of the city. The red and yellow emblem of 
tyranny had disappeared forever from the last stronghold of that vast 
empire which formerly acknowledged the authority of Spain over four- 
fifths of the western hemisphere. And there, above the frowning guns 
of El Morro, against the deep blue of a tropic sky, proudly floated the 
Stars and Stripes. One can never fully realize how much he loves the 
dear old emblem until he sees it in a foreign land. 

Before our anchor had fairly reached the bottom we were beset by 
a flotilla of small boats, the boatmen pushing and struggling among 
themselves to be the first to reach the gangway. Coming on board 
they laid siege to the unsophisticated " passajeros " in a manner that 
would have afforded pointers to the most importunate crowd of New 
York hack men. In some cases it is well to go early to avoid the rush, 
but in this instance we decided to wait until the rush was over. As 
our steamer was to remain for several days discharging freight, we 
would have ample time to view the city. 

Having settled the question of "pesettas" with one of the native 
boatmen he hoisted sail and we were soon on our way ashore. Our 
course carried us directly by the wreck of the ill-fated " Maine." All 
that remained above water of the once beautiful battleship was an un- 
sightly heap of scrap iron, a reminder of one of the most appalling 
acts of treachery the world has witnessed. In a few minutes we were 
alongside the wharf and stepped ashore in a city as essentially foreign 
in its characteristics as though it lay beyond the Atlantic. 

A few minutes walk brought us to a large square, the Plaza de 
Armas, and facing it stood the palace of the Governor-General, the 
executive mansion of Cuba. The plaza was tilled with tents, for our 
soldier boys were camped in all the public squares and parks through- 
out the city. In the centre of the plaza is a statue of Ferdinand VII, 
on either side of which rise lofty and imposing royal palms, their 
spreading branches bending gracefully before the breeze, as though in 
homage to the glorious emblem which floated above the palace tower, 
proclaiming peace and liberty throughout the land. 



Leaving the palace of the Governor-General a short walk brings us 
to the Prado, the Broadway of Havana. However narrow and alley- 
like other Havana streets may be, this is a broad and stately avenue, 
bordered by imposing buildings and occasional plazas, with grateful 
shade trees and cooling fountains. In the centre of the block beyond 
is l'lngleterra, Havana's Waldorf-Astoria, and, adjoining it on the left, 
one of the principal theatres of the city. The architecture of Havana 
buildings is solid and substantial, their portales cool and shady, and 
their rooms large and airy, while the rattle of the carriages and mule 
carts over the rough cobble-stone pavement reminds us strikingly of 
our own New York-. 

Crowning a lofty eminence on the opposite shore of Havana Har- 
bor stands La Cabana, the greatest fortress in the new world, and which 
cost the treasury of Spain the round sum of fourteen million dollars. 
When the accounts were presented to the Spanish monarch it is related 
that he went to his palace window and looked steadily westward. On 
being asked his reason for so doing he is said to have remarked that 
he expected to see the castle walls rising above the horizon, since it 
was large enough to have cost so much. From the water's edge a 
paved and covered way leads upward to the fortress. 

The main entrance is on the north side toward the ocean. Beyond 
the drawbridge crossing the moat is a royal gateway bearing the arms 
of Spain. Over the heavy doors, on a semi-circular tablet of marble, 
is an inscription giving the date on which the construction of Cabana 
was begun, its name, and the names of the various officials engaged in 
the work. Immediately above this is an enormous shield of brown 
sandstone, on which are carved the arms of his Catholic Majesty, Car- 
los III. As we looked upon this massive entrance it seemed that its 
most fitting inscription would be those portentous words of Dante, 
" All hope abandon, ye who enter here." For, of all the innumerable 
throngs who have passed within these walls, few there have been who 
did not, literally, leave hope behind. 

The heights of La Cabana overlook El Morro, and Antonelli, the 
engineer who designed the latter fortress, once said while standing 
here, " He who takes the position of the Cabana will have the city 
also." Unfortunately for the Spaniards, however, these prophetic 
words were not heeded, but were recalled many years after his death, 
when, from this same hill in 1 762, the British attacked the weakest 
side of the Morro, and captured Havana. The following year, within 
three months after the evacuation of Havana by the British, work was 
begun on the castle of Cabana. It was built by convict labor from 
Mexico, and was completed in a year. But it was a case of locking 



4 

the stable after the horse had been stolen, for, although " El Castillo 
de San Carlos de la Cabana " was the greatest fortress in the new 
world, and mounted more than 200 guns, it has never fired a shot to 
repel an enemy. Its silent guns speak only to salute an incoming na- 
val vessel, bound on some peaceful errand to the quaint old city. 

10 As we turned to leave Cabana the sun was slowly sinking in the 
west. Its golden rays softened and blended harmoniously the many 
tinted walls and roofs of the ancient city. The calm surface of the 
gently heaving sea, breaking softly against the rocky base of the fort- 
ress, was overspread with a ruddy glow. And, crowning all, from the 
Morro's tallest staff, our country's flag waved a silent benediction. 
Then, as the edge of the slowly sinking sun touched the horizon line, 
from across the harbor entrance there floated the glorious strains of the 
" Star Spangled Banner." As the last notes died away, and while the 
echoes of the sunset gun were still reverberating among the gloomy 
walls of the Morro, our flag came slowly down, reflecting in its descent 
the sun's last lingering rays, the harbinger of new light, new life, and 
liberty for the new Republic. 

11 As day is breaking upon the final morning of our voyage, we enter 
the harbor of Vera Cruz, the very spot where the fleet of Cortes first 
came to anchor on Good Friday, 1519. And the largest Mexican sea- 
port of today is the outgrowth of that first settlement made under the 
name of La -Villa Rica de la Santa Vera Cruz, "The Rich City of the 
Holy True Cross." One might well wonder what richness the sandy, 
marshy site of the pioneer settlement promised, but the magnificent 
and sumptuous gifts of gold and ornamental work here received by 
Cortes from the envoys of Montezuma undoubtedly suggested that 
portion of the title. As our steamer comes to anchor a swarm of 
boatmen hover near, none daring to come on board, however, until the 
lowering of the health officer's yellow flag announces the inspection 
over. Then a few minutes suffice to land us at the pier. 

12 On our way to the railway station we pass several members of the 
street cleaning department. In one respect this resembles the New 
York department : its members are all dressed alike. But while the 
men of the New York brigade wear white uniforms, the Vera Cruz 
force is dressed in black. Its members also work without salary and 
find themselves. To Vera Cruzers these useful members of society are 
known as "zopilotes," but to the American they are simply buzzards, 
which the city authorities protect by an ordinance providing a heavy 
penalty for killing them. 

13 Vera Cruz has one redeeming feature: there is a railway by which 
we may get away. For the best thing to do after reaching the city of 



5 

Vera Cruz is to leave it as soon as possible. In spite of the well di- 
rected efforts of the garbage commissioners their number is too small 
to accomplish the work effectually, and, as Vera Cruz has no special at- 
tractions for the visitor, we will seek a higher altitude. The train from 
Vera Cruz to the City of Mexico leaves early in the morning, but as an 
afternoon train runs to Orizaba, a city at an elevation of 4000 feet, we 
may arrange to spend the night far above the malaria of the coast. 

14 Leaving Vera Cruz, the train runs for fifty miles across the level 
stretches of the " tierra caliente," or hot country. After crossing a bar- 
ren and sandy waste we enter a region of exuberant fertility. Dense 
thickets of aromatic shrubs and flowers are interwoven with a network 
of tangled vines, while here and there, through some palm-embowered 
vista, appears a glistening dome, for we are in a land of churches. But 
in the midst of all this bloom and beauty lurks the hidden malaria, 
rendering the tierra caliente a " tierra de muerte." From April to No- 
vember the lowlands should not be entered by those unacclimated, and 
Americans who have descended from the table-land within these months 
are quarantined at the border on their return to the United States. 

15 As we approach the foothills the scenery grows more beautiful. 
Rushing streams intersect our pathway, and occasionally we pass a 
bridge of the ancient highway connecting Vera Cruz with the City 
of Mexico. One of the most picturesque of these is an old stone 
arch, moss-grown and hung with vines, which spans the Chiquihuiti. 
However rough and well-nigh impassable the primitive Spanish road- 
ways may be, the bridges are marvels of strength and durability, while 
age has given them that ineffable touch of color which harmonizes so 
perfectly with their tropical environment. After crossing the Chiqui- 
huiti River we begin in earnest our ascent of the foothills, and the tierra 
caliente, with its swamps and fevers, is left behind us. 

16 As we emerge suddenly from a long tunnel, we see, far below, the 
beautiful fall of Atoyac. Waterfalls, in Mexico, are rare, especially 
during the winter, or dry season. As the beauty of a jewel is oft-times 
enhanced by its setting, so does Atoyac apparently gain in lustre from 
the very density of the impenetrable mass of surrounding verdure. 
But before we are fairly impressed with the exquisite beauty of this 
rare and resplendent gem, it has vanished from our sight, and a turn 
of the magic kaleidoscope brings new and interesting visions. 

17 Here and there, peeping out from beneath a waving canopy of 
spreading palms, we catch a fleeting glimpse of the tile-roofed hut of 
a native peon. We are now passing through the "tierra templada," 
or temperate zone of Mexico. One of the most wonderful features of 
this wonderful country is the fact that, within a single day's ride, we 



pass through all the successive climatic changes that exist from Florida 
to Maine. Instead of following degrees of latitude, however, the zones 
of Mexico are arranged like a flight of stairs. As we gradually ascend 
from the coast, we pass successively from the tropics to the pine-fringed 
expanse of the table-land, above which tower still loftier heights, eter- 
nally wreathed in snow and ice. 

1 8 But we must not anticipate, for as yet we have only ascended about 
one-third of the distance to the table-land. Towards nightfall we reach 
the station at Cordova, and as the scenery between Cordova and Ori- 
zaba is too beautiful to be passed in darkness, we will remain over night 
at the former place, and go on by the morning train. Each town in 
Mexico has some special article of which it has a sort of monopoly. 
At Aguas Calientes it is drawn work, at Irapuato strawberries, at Api- 
zaco canes, and at Cordova pineapples, bananas and other sub-tropical 
fruits. Mexico is an ancient country. Its settlements were located 
long before the days of railroads, and, consequently, most Mexican 
towns are a mile or more distant from the railway station, conveyance 
being afforded by tram-cars. A ride of ten minutes brings us to " El 
Gran Hotel America," where we spend our first night in Mexico. 

19 With the dawning light of day we step upon the window balcony 
to view the landscape. Whatever else of our tour in Mexico may fade 
from memory, this matchless scene will never be forgotten. The first 
beams of the rising sun, streaming across the tile-roofed buildings, tinge 
with glowing colors the domes and towers of an ancient church. In 
the distance, crowning all, towers the stately, snow-capped peak of 
Orizaba, the " Mountain of the Star," and the highest point in Mexico. 
Indeed, by the latest measurements, which place its altitude at 18,200 
feet, it becomes, perhaps, with the exception of Mount McKinley, the 
loftiest mountain in North America, exceeding even Mount St. Elias. 

20 Leaving Cordova, the railway runs directly toward Mount Orizaba, 
and is bordered for many miles on either side by a constant succession 
of banana groves and coffee plantations. The contrast, as we raise our 
eyes from this profusion of tropical verdure to the snow and ice above, 
is strange and startling". But what, at first sight, is stranger still, is the 
fact that in summer the mountain is much whiter than in winter, as we 
see it now. Summer, in Mexico, is the rainy season. The mornings, 
as a rule, are bright and sunny, but each afternoon and evening brings 
a cooling and refreshing shower, which, on the mountain top, is turned 
to snow. This immaculate garment, however, during the long dry 
season from October to June, constantly exposed to the burning rays 
of a tropic sun, gradually shrinks and dwindles, although it never 
wholly disappears. 



21 We are now passing through the great coffee zone of Mexico. This 

productive region, varying in width according to the steepness of the 
incline, lies along the slopes of the Cordilleras, at an elevation of from 
3000 to 4000 feet, on both the Gulf and Pacific coasts. Coffee is one 
of the great staple productions of Mexico, and the the white buildings 
of the haciendas, embowered in palms and flowering plants, are a fre- 
quent sight as we traverse the coffee zone. One of the most extensive 
of these haciendas is near the station of Fortin, and while the train is 
waiting we will make a brief inspection. Passing through the impos- 
ing gateway we walk through spacious grounds, shaded by royal palms 
and variegated with fountains and the floral bloom of the tropics. On 
the left, surmounted by a tower and gilded cross, is the hacienda chap- 
el, its interior beautifully decorated, and a veritable museum of art. 
The proprietor greets us courteously and conducts us through the es- 
tablishment. 

22» Within the hacienda walls great hoppers are filled with coffee ber- 
ries, which, at a distance, look like cranberries. The machinery sepa- 
rates the pulp from the inside kernels, which, after being washed, are 
spread out in the sun to dry. The flat roofs of the hacienda buildings, 
and the great cemented floor of the patio, or inner courtyard, are used 
for this purpose. The coffee, spread out in thin layers, remains ex- 
posed to the sun until thoroughly dry, when it is scraped up in heaps, 
packed in bags, and is ready for shipment. Our illustration shows the 
coffee, spread out to dry in several sections of the patio, gathered into 
heaps in others, and in the lower right hand corner is a train of burros, 
waiting to convey it to the railroad station. 

23 What the camel is to Egypt, the burro is to Mexico. Wherever 
one goes he encounters these patient and dignified little animals, which 
have acted as a substitute for wagons, canal-boats, and, until recently, 
even for railroads. The materials for all the great cathedrals of Mex- 
ico have been transported on the backs of burros. Mexico owes much 
to President Diaz, who brought order out of chaos ; much to Juarez, 
who threw off the last shackle of royalty ; a great deal to Hidalgo, who 
struck the first blow for independence ; something even to Cortes, who 
achieved the conquest ; but she also owes an incomputable debt to the 
burro, which, for four centuries, has patiently borne all her burdens. 

24 Exactly midway in the vertical ascent from the coast to the table- 
land, on a level plain walled in on every side by towering mountains, 
lies the city of Orizaba. Our view is taken from the Cerro de Borre- 
go, a hill on the outskirts of the city, where, in 1862, one hundred 
French Zouaves surprised and defeated between four and five thousand 
Mexicans. Beneath us, in the foreground, is the " Plaza de Toros," 



8 

for every Mexican city of importance has its bull fights. Since leaving 
Vera Cruz we have traveled but eighty -two miles, although we have 
ascended more than 4000 feet. Owing to this altitude Orizaba has 
always been considered exempt from yellow fever, which, in summer, 
infests the cities lower down. On that account it is a great resort for 
all who can get away from the fever stricken cities of the coast. 

25 Leaving Orizaba, we begin the final climb of 4000 feet to the Mex- 
ican plateau. Another locomotive, of peculiar construction, has been 
attached to our train, for an ordinary engine would be unable to over- 
come the steepness of the grades before us. This is a Fairlee locomo- 
tive, built in England, and its construction is on the same plan as that 
of Mexican matches : both ends are alike. When a Mexican asks you 

' for a light he always returns the unused end of the match with a defer- 
ential bow, and a "muchas gracias, senor." The Mexican Railway, 
for the first half of the distance from Vera Cruz to the national capital, 
does not follow the route of Cortes, who ascended to the table-land 
further to the north, and on the opposite side of Mount Orizaba. But 
the scenic features of the railway route are far superior to the section 
which the conqueror traversed in his uneventful climb, and, after reach- 
ing the plateau, we shall pass through the various places made historic 
by his achievements. 

26 At Maltrata we make a last stop to feed and water our tandem team 
of iron horses, before beginning the final test of their endurance in over- 
coming the steepest ascent of all. Reaching the top of the final terrace, 
let us for an instant take a backward glance below. Spread out beneath 
us, like the squares of some vast checker-board, are the streets and gar- 
dens of Maltrata. It lies more than 2000 feet beneath us, and, in an air 
line, less than two miles away, yet, to accomplish this ascent, we have 
squirmed and twisted and zigzagged more than five times that distance. 
The commodity offered the tourist by Maltrata Indians is mostly floral. 
When the descending train reaches Alta Luz, our present standpoint, 
the traveler is besieged by these aggressive peddlers and offered the 
most beautiful orchids. But do not be in a hurry to purchase, for, on 
arrival at Maltrata, 2000 feet below, you will find that these very In- 
dians have taken the short cut and arrived before you, and the price of 
the orchids has dropped in direct ratio to the decrease in altitude. 

27 On the edge of the table-land we stop at Esperanza, the dining sta- 
tion. What a contrast ! Before us stretches a level plain, as far as the 
eye can reach, bordered on either side by lofty mountains. On the 
right is the culminating peak of Orizaba, now towering, white and glis- 
tening, far above the clouds, which, lower down, were wrapped about 
it like a mantle. In the rarefied atmosphere of the table-land, at this 



altitude of 8000 feet, objects are defined so sharply that we are very 
much deceived as to their actual distance. The mountain before us, 
for example, which appears within the limits of a comfortable walk, 
is not less than thirty miles away. 

28 Apizaco is the cane station. Incidentally, also, it is the junction 
where the road to Puebla branches off from the main line of the Mex- 
ican Railway. But it is for its canes that it is chiefly remembered by 
the tourist — canes of all sizes, shapes and colors; canes with snakes 
entwined around them, and canes embellished with queer looking Aztec 
carvings. Canes may be bought at many bazaars in Mexico, it is true, 
but nearly all of them come from Apizaco. The railway fron Apizaco 
to Puebla follows approximately the route of Cortes, as he traversed 
the territory of Tlaxcala. This republic, it will be remembered, refused 
allegiance and tribute to Montezuma, and, what is more, had always 
maintained its independence. 

29 Tlaxcala, probably more than any other city in Mexico, is replete 
with characteristic features and relics of the conquest. Most interest- 
ing among them is the old church of San Francisco, the oldest on this 
continent, founded in 1 52 1 . In the large chapel of Tercer Orden, open- 
ing from the nave, we see on the right the very pulpit from which the 
Christian faith was first preached on this continent. It bears this in- 
scription : " Aqui tubo principio el Santo Evangelio en este nuevo mun- 
do." ( Here the Holy Evangel had its beginning in this new world.) 
The High Altar, beyond, is exceptionally rich in gilded carvings. 

30 Turning now, and looking in the opposite direction, we have a near 
view of the pulpit on the left, and in the right-hand corner, near the 
entrance, we see a large stone font. This is an especially interesting 
relic, for, at this very font, in 1521, were baptized the four Tlaxcalan 
chiefs who were the first converts to Christianity in the new world. 
The intent of the Spanish cavalier was fully as much the conversion of 
the soul as the conquest of the body. No victory, therefore, could be 
considered complete until the conquered nation had discarded its idol- 
atrous worship, and had accepted the true faith, no matter how sudden 
the change, or how violent the means of persuasion. 

31 One of the sights of Tlaxcala is the Santuario de Ocotlan, standing 
upon a hill on the outskirts of the city. Here, soon after the conquest, 
according to tradition, a miraculous spring gushed forth, to reward the 
quest of a pious Indian, at the bidding of the Blessed Virgin. It has 
been, therefore, one of the most famous shrines in Mexico, and large 
sums of money have been lavished upon its embellishment. The front 
is ornamented with carved stonework of intricate design, flanked on 
either side with a surface of dark red tiles. 



10 

32 But the most famous and wonderful feature of the church is the 
interior, to the decoration of which the noted Indian sculptor, Francisco 
Miguel, devoted twenty-five years of laborious and painstaking work. 
Our illustration represents the ceiling of the camarin, taken with the 
camera on the floor and pointing directly upward. In the centre is a 
white dove, symbolizing the Holy Spirit, around which in a circle are 
polychrome figures of apostles, their feet resting on a circle of white 
and gold cloud. Below are marvelous and intricate designs in arabesque 
stucco, brilliantly colored, and revealing such consummate taste and 
talent as we can scarcely believe were possessed by a nativelndian artist. 

33 Nestling at the eastern base of Popocatepetl, the great volcano, its 
dwindling population scattered broadcast over a level plain, lies the an- 
cient city of Cholula. Churches innumerable, that have risen since 
the conquest, are now deserted and crumbling in decay. Of the idol- 
atrous Aztec temples, whose altar fires were brightly burning when the 
Spaniard came, we find no trace. But, although its traditions and as- 
sociations are all of which the Cholula of today can boast, there is no 
place in Mexico more interesting to the archaeologist. For, as we look 
beneath this crumbling arch, we see in the distance, surmounted by a 
modern church, a relic of an epoch before the Aztec — an artificial 
structure of unknown age and of mysterious origin. 

34 Let us approach nearer, and obtain an unobstructed view of what 
appears to be a natural hill, but what is in reality an artificial mound, 
the great pyramid of Cholula. It is built of alternate layers of brick 
and clay, rises nearly 200 feet above the plain, and its base covers an 
area of forty-four acres, being twice as long as that of the great pyra- 
mid of Cheops. According to the traditions of the natives whom the 
Aztecs found on the plain of Cholula, it was built by a family of giants. 
These were descended from the two sole survivors of a great flood 
which overspread the land, and their design was to raise this structure 
to the skies. But the gods, offended at such presumption, sent fires 
from Heaven, which forced them to abandon the attempt. The coin- 
cidence of this tradition with the Chaldean and Hebrew accounts of the 
Deluge and Tower of Babel is striking, even the confusion of tongues 
having a parallel in the fact that more than 100 different dialects are 
spoken among the Mexican Indians of today. 

J ^ When Cortes ascended the pyramid, and looked over the sacred city 

of Cholula, he counted 400 towers, yet no temple had more than two, 
and many only one. While the temples have disappeared, the domes 
and towers of nearly sixty Christian churches may now be counted 
from Cholula 's pyramid. It is still a holy city, if, perchance, three- 
score deserted and crumbling buildings are any measure of true sanctity. 



11 

At the time of the conquest the pyramid of Cholula was surmounted 
by an Indian temple, dedicated to that mystic deity, Quetzalcoatl. 

36 This divinity, as we here observe, was represented as a feathered 
serpent. In reality, however, he was a being of majestic and benig- 
nant mien, fair of face, and with a long, flowing beard. This exem- 
plary deity taught the Cholulans arts and trades, strict morality, and a 
pure religion, free from human sacrifice. After a long sojourn among 
them he took leave of his followers at the shore of the Mexican Gulf, 
upon which he embarked and disappeared, promising, however, to re- 
turn at some future time. His memory was deified by the Mexicans, 
who confidently looked for his return. To this tradition Cortes un- 
doubtedly owed much of his success, for many of the superstitious Az- 
tecs saw in his appearance the fulfilment of the prophecy. Montezuma 
himself shared this belief to some extent, but between his disinclination 
to lose his empire and his fear to offend the strangers, he adopted faint- 
hearted and half-way measures which were neither politic nor successful. 

37 The view across the plain of Cholula is magnificent in the extreme. 
On the left we see the symmetrical, tapering cone of Popocatepetl, 
nearly 18,000 feet above sea level, and rising more than 10,000 feet 
above the plain. It was long considered the highest mountain in Mex- 
ico, but later measurements of Mount Orizaba have given Popocate- 
petl the second place. On the right appears the long, snow-crested 
ridge of Ixtaccihuatl, the " white woman." Although Popocatepetl has 
long been quiescent, at the time of the conquest it was frequently in 
eruption, and while the Spaniards were at Tlaxcala it raged with un- 
common fury. This was looked upon by the superstitious Aztecs as 
an evil omen for their destiny. From Cholula, the route of Cortes to 
the City of Mexico lay directly across the ridge before us, between 
these two mountain peaks. Beyond this mountain wall lies the fa- 
mous Valley of Mexico, oval in shape, about sixty miles in length by 
thirty in breadth, and about 7500 feet above sea level. In its centre 
was formerly a large lake, many miles in extent, from the waters of 
which rose the Aztec capital. It is now 400 years since Cortes crossed 
this mountain wall and descended into this beautiful valley. Let us 
go back still another 200 years, to the year 1325, to be exact. The 
valley is uninhabited, and the only evidences of former dwellers are 
the scattered Toltec ruins, representing a civilization as far in the past 
as the Mexico of the twentieth century is in the future. 

38 The early morning light shows a large band of Indians, who have 
just entered the valley from the north, following the shore of the 
lake. They are the Aztecs, and as they reach the southwestern bor- 
der of the lake, they behold, perched on the stem of a thorny cactus, 



12 

growing in a crevice of a rock, that is washed by the waves, a royal 
eagle of great size and beauty, with a serpent in his talons, and his 
broad wings opened to the rising sun. They hailed the auspicious 
omen as indicating" the site of their future city, the construction of 
which was begun immediately. The settlement which they founded 
was called Tenochtitlan, meaning "cactus on a stone," and from this 
small beginning" grew the mighty Aztec city which held sway over 
the length and breadth of Mexico for 200 years. The legend of its 
foundation is still perpetuated in the arms of the republic of modern 
Mexico, the device now before you on the screen, and showing the 
eagle with the snake, and the cactus on the rock. 

39 At the time of the conquest the Tenochtitlan of the Aztecs, which 
is the present City of Mexico, was the Venice of the western hemi- 
sphere. The city was entirely surrounded by the waters of Lake 
Tezcuco, being only accessible by four great causeways, approaching 
the city from the four cardinal points. The picturesque Viga Canal, 
with its swarms of native boats and boatmen, now follows the line of 
the former southern causeway. This was the route over which Cortes 
and his army marched into the Aztec capital. In addition to the in- 
teresting historical associations of this locality, the Viga canal now 
constitutes one of the principal resorts for the population of the mod- 
ern city. Let us, then, briefly consider its former environment, as 
well as its present aspect. 

40 Along this southern approach, in CorteY day, were the " Chinam- 
pas," or floating gardens. Prescott calls them " wandering islands of 
verdure, teeming with flowers and vegetation, and moving like rafts 
over the waters ; rising and falling with the gentle undulations of the 
billows." They were composed of frames of reeds and rushes, bound 
tightly together and covered with the rich, alluvial mud from the 
bottom of the lake, thus forming floating islands, on which the Aztecs 
raised their vegetables. But the Chinampas no longer float. They 
are now merely extensive areas of vegetable gardens, intersected by a 
network of irrigating ditches radiating from the Viga canal. Along 
these ditches, into the Viga, and thence to the City of Mexico, the 
Indians pole their flatbottomed scows, laden with garden truck for the 
city markets. These same flat boats on fiestas, or holidays, are tilled 
with pleasure seekers bound from the city to Ixtacalco, or to Santa 
Anita, the Coney Island of Mexico. On the Friday before Holy 
Week the Viga canal presents an unusually animated appearance. 

41 It is the annual Paseo de las Flores, a traditional festival observed 
from time immemorial. It is maintained by some that it is an Indian 
custom, long antedating the conquest, to celebrate the coming of spring. 



13 

On this day of days the Viga becomes a veritable bower of floral beau- 
ty. Its surface, as may be seen in our picture, is strewn with flowers, 
and the various barges rival one another in the profusion of their 
decorations. Unfortunately for the American who has a nose, the Viga 
canal is no longer the limpid stream it was in Cortes' time. While 
it is not, as some people maintain, the sewage conduit of the city, 
yet, as the Mexicans say, "la fetidez es muy mala." But, while the 
odors are almost intolerable, especially when stirred up by the contin- 
ual agitation incident to a fiesta, they do not in the least interfere with 
the picturesqueness. 

As we get further away from the city, and the crowds, and the 
turmoil, out where the water, while by no means clear, has less the 
consistency of a solid and approaches more closely its normal liquid 
state, out where the banks are lined with trees, whose intersecting 
branches arch the stream — then the Viga canal really becomes a thing 
of beauty. From nearly every passing barge comes the soft music of 
the guitar, and through the interstices in the canopy of green rushes we 
catch glimpses of fair senoritas, their dark hair entwined with wreaths 
of ruddy poppies. Yes, the Viga is sui generis, and every visitor to 
Mexico should see it — once. / 

On Tuesday, November 8, 1519, Cortes and his army, accompa- 
nied by their Tlaxcalan allies, entered the city of Tenochtitlan. At 
last the conquistador realized the consummation of all for which he 
had schemed, prayed and fought, ever since he first set foot on the 
soil of Mexico at Vera Cruz. In seven short months he had traversed 
a hostile country, administered defeat after defeat to the fierce and 
warlike Tlaxcalans, and finally, having secured their friendship, made 
with them a peaceful entry into the Aztec capital. And in this great 
square before us the army of Cortes halted and looked upon their 
surroundings. Where now stands the great cathedral rose a lofty teo- 
calli, second only to the pyramid of Cholula, and dedicated to the 
patron war god of the Aztecs. 

On the summit of this truncated pyramid was a temple devoted 
to human sacrifice, and in the courtyard stood the sacrificial stone, a 
view of which is here presented, on which the prisoner was stretched. 
Five priests secured his head and his limbs, while the sixth, clad in a 
scarlet mantle, emblematic of his bloody office, despatched the victim 
with a sharp razor of itztli — a volcanic substance, hard as flint — and 
cast his heart at the feet of the deity to whom the temple was devoted. 

In the National Museum of the City of Mexico stands a huge and 
hideous two-faced monster, carved in stone. Mr. Bandelier, known 
and acknowledged as one of the foremost antiquarians of our day and 



14 

generation, after exhaustive research, affirms that this is none other 
than "the well-known war god of the Mexican tribe, Huitzilopochtli ; 
and that, consequently, it was the famous principal idol of aboriginal 
Mexico, or Tenochtitlan." At the shrine of this sanguinary deity from 
20,000 to 50,000 human beings were annually offered up in bloody 
sacrifice. Truly, as Prescott says, " The empire of the Aztecs did not 
fall before its time." 

46 As we turn to leave the National Museum, we see, directly oppo- 
site the doorway, a curiously carved and ornamented block of stone. 
This has been the subject of much controversy among antiquarians, 
some declaring it to be simply an Aztec calendar stone, while others 
maintain that it served as a base for the smaller sacrificial stone. The 
carvings on the block, consisting of a central sun surrounded by a circle 
of twenty figures representing the twenty days of the Mexican month, 
certainly bear out the calendar idea, but it is the opinion of no less an 
authority than Mr. Bandelier that it was designed for the sacrificial 
stone to rest upon. As it was unearthed directly beneath the site of 
the ancient Aztec temple, this seems the most plausible interpretation. 

47 It is not our purpose to narrate here the incidents of Cortes' stay in 
Tenochtitlan. The cruelties and barbarities practised by the Spaniards, 
together with the indignities offered to the weak and spiritless Monte- 
zuma, which ended with his untimely death, are fully recorded in 
Prescott's " Conquest of Mexico." Suffice it to say that, on July 1, 
1520, the Aztecs rose in their might, and, with terrible slaughter, drove 
the detested Spaniards from the city. No wonder the hitherto un- 
daunted spirit of the conqueror was broken by the terrors and disasters 
of the "melancholy night." On the outskirts of the city, at Popotla, 
stands this "tree of the Noche Triste." Here, as we are informed, the 
Spanish general stood and watched the straggling remnants of his army 
pass, while, unable to restrain his emotions, he covered his face with 
his hands, and, in the anguish of his soul, wept bitterly. But even as 
he wept his proud and indomitable spirit was already looking forward 
to the hour of vengeance. 

48 On the site of the famous eastern causeway, where the greatest 
slaughter of the retreating Spaniards took place, has been erected the 
church of San Hipolito. The reconquest of the city having been con- 
summated on August 13, 1521, the day of San Hipolito, the church 
was dedicated to that saint, and those who had lost their lives were 
commemorated as martyrs. Close by is the spot where Alvarado 
made his famous leap, a feat so apparently impossible as to excite the 
admiration of friend and foe alike. To this day the place is called 
"El Saltode Alvarado." 



*5 

49 On the very spot formerly occupied by the Aztec temple now 
stands the Cathedral of Mexico, the largest church on the American 
continent. It faces the great central plaza of the city and occupies its 
entire northern side. In the corner nearest us is the Sagrario Metro- 
politano, with its elaborate Churrigueresque fagade, in reality a por- 
tion of the cathedral, although differing widely from it in architect- 
ural design. The fragmentary construction of the cathedral, covering, 
as it did, a period of more than 200 years, naturally caused a lack of 
harmony, and doubtless many changes from the original design. The 
two towers are each capped with a bell-shaped dome, and the white 
marble statues, friezes and capitals which adorn the facade are very 
elegant and harmonize effectively with the soft gray color of the ma- 
sonry. The door of the cathedral is always open. Let us enter and 
view the interior. 

50 Directly facing the main entrance is the Altar del Perdon. This 
is elaborately carved and gilded with figures in polychrome. Directly 
back of this altar extends the choir, which, following the custom in 
most Spanish cathedrals, occupies the central portion of the nave. 
This arrangement mars greatly an effect that would otherwise be im- 
posing and majestic, as that portion of the nave not occupied by the 
choir is filled by the high altar and the railed passage connecting them. 
The choir stalls, together with the casings of the two great organs, are 
elaborately carved, and the woodwork has never been degraded by 
either paint or varnish. 

51 The High Altar itself is out of harmony with its surroundings, and 
is far inferior to the original structure which it replaced. On the right 
is the pulpit, of Puebla onyx, and directly back of the high altar we 
have a glimpse of the superb altar and chapel of Los Reyes. This 
occupies the apse, and was the work of Balbas, designer of the high 
altar of the great cathedral of Seville, who came over from Spain 
expressly to do this work. Unfortunately this masterpiece, extending 
from floor to ceiling, could not be photographed to advantage, the 
high altar being directly in front and very near. Under the altar of 
Los Reyes are buried the heads of Hidalgo, Allende, Aldama and Jimi- 
nez, brought here after the independence for which they lost them 
had been secured. 

52 One of the most superb views in Mexico is obtained from the ca- 
thedral tower. Directly beneath us lies the Plaza Mayor, and, facing 
it on the east, the National Palace, Capitol of the Republic of Mexico. 
This is one of the longest buildings in the world. In the central tow- 
er, shown on the extreme right, hangs the Liberty Bell of Mexico. 
In 1896 it was brought here from the church of Dolores, near San 



16 

Miguel de Allende, where, nearly 100 years before, it was rung by 
Hidalgo, the patriot priest, to call the people to arms, and to march, 
under the banner of Guadaloupe, for the independence of Mexico. 
In the distance, eighty miles away, glisten the snow-capped peaks of 
Popocatepetl and Ixtaccihuatl, white as the clouds which are gathering 
around their crests. 

53 Of the many fine examples of sculpture in the City of Mexico, the 
most notable is the imposing equestrian statue of Carlos IV. of Spain. 
This was the masterpiece of the noted architect, Manuel Tolsa. Made 
in a single piece, it is the largest bronze casting in the world. A few 
years after its completion the popular feeling against the Spaniards 
became so bitter that the statue was encased in a wooden globe, as a 
protection against the patriotic Mexicans. Later, when the popular 
feeling had somewhat subsided, it was placed in its present position. 
As if in apology for placing the statue of the ignoble and detested 
Spanish monarch in one of the most honored positions in the city, 
the following significant inscription was cut upon the pedestal: " Con- 
servado como Obra del Arte," Preserved as a work of Art. 

54 Extending in a straight line from the statue of Carlos IV. to the 
Castle of Chapultepec is the most beautiful driveway in Mexico, the 
Paseo de la Reforma. Throughout its length the Paseo is bordered 
on either side by a double row of trees. Between these rows extend 
the sidewalks, while at intervals, beneath the shade of the overhang- 
ing trees, are massive stone benches where one may sit and watch the 
endless succession of stylish turnouts. On Sunday afternoons the 
Paseo is the rendezvous of fashionable Mexico. 

55 Here are caballeros in charro costume, resplendent in all the glory 
of silver trappings. Then come scores of handsome carriages, whose 
dark -eyed occupants smile and twirl their jeweled fingers as they rec- 
ognize some acquaintance in the passing throng. Up one side of the 
splendid thoroughfare and down the other passes an endless procession, 
the two lines divided by a double row of mounted troopers, stationed 
every hundred yards or so, as mute and immovable as the bronze fig- 
ure at the Paseo's entrance. The Mexicans owe this magnificent drive- 
way to Carlotta, wife of the unfortunate Maximilian, who laid it out 
in imitation of the Champs- Elys£es. Like that famous boulevard the 
Paseo has a number of circular parks, called glorietas, in which are 
erected statues. 

56 The most notable of these is an impressive figure of the defiant 
Guatemotzin, nephew of Montezuma, and his successor on the throne 
of the Aztecs. Had Montezuma possessed one tenth the spirit of this 
dauntless chieftain the history of Mexico would have been far different. 



17 

His heroic defence of his capital, and refusal to surrender on the most 
honorable terms, was prolonged until, stone by stone, his capital had 
been obliterated, and, one by one, his followers killed. Even then, 
when finally captured and brought before Cortes, the proud Aztec ad- 
dressed his conqueror thus : " Malintzi, 1 have done what 1 could in de- 
fence of this city and of my nation ; take this dagger now and kill me ! " 

57 On the pedestal of the statue is a bas-relief representing the torture 
of Guatemotzin by the Spaniards, when, in order to compel him to 
reveal the hiding place of his treasure, they roasted his feet over a 
burning brazier. This contemptible action, the one foul blot on the 
memory of Cortes, failed to evoke so much as a groan from the daunt- 
less captive, still less the desired information. Time and posterity, 
those two inexorable judges, have agreed upon a righteous verdict. 
Today Montezuma and Guatemotzin are household words in Mexico, 
and familiar to every child. Their portraits are seen on every hand, 
and their memory is immortal, but in all Mexico there is no monument 
to the conqueror, and no city, village, or even street, bears the detested 
name of Cortes. 

58 The Paseo terminates at Chapultepec, the White House, and also 
the West Point, of Mexico. Crowning the summit of the hill is the 
residence of President Diaz, and directly back of it is the Military 
Academy, where the officers of the Mexican army are trained and edu- 
cated. During the Mexican war the hill of Chapultepec was stormed 
and captured by the American forces under General Pillow. It was 
gallantly defended by its garrison of boy cadets, and at the foot of the 
hill is a monument to the memory of the bright and promising young 
heroes, who were worthy of a better fate. 

59 The greatest glory of Chapultepec is its magnificent grove of an- 
cient cypress trees. Under the shade of these very trees it is said that 
Montezuma and his retinue were wont to spend much of their time, 
discussing affairs of state. To this day, in fact, the largest and finest 
of the grove is known as Montezuma's Tree. Not far away is Malin- 
che's Spring, and there is a legend to the effect that, in her subterranean 
caverns, this water sprite still guards the Aztec treasure, given to her for 
safe keeping by Guatemotzin, when he foresaw the downfall of his peo- 
ple. In the days of ancient Tenochtitlan, a causeway led thither from 
Chapultepec, and over this causeway an aqueduct conveyed the water 
from Malinche's Spring. After the city was rebuilt by the Spaniards a 
new aqueduct, of solid masonry, replaced the primitive Aztec structure. 

60 Although this aqueduct has long been obsolete, the water supply 
of modern Mexico being carried beneath the ground in iron pipes, its 
two principal fountains have been preserved as historic monuments 



18 

One of these is this picturesque and quaint old fountain at the termi- 
nus of the former aqueduct in the City of Mexico. It is known as El 
Salto del Agua, "The Leap of the Water." Nearly every morning- 
one may see here an array of vegetables brought from the gardens on 
the Viga, and kept fresh and bright all day by frequent sprinkling 
from the adjacent fountain. Although the more prosaic iron pipes 
now conduct the water to the patios of the more pretentious Mexican 
houses, the aguador still finds employment in carrying water from the 
public fountains,' as Mexico's water supply is still inadequate. 

61 In addition to the aguador, another early morning visitor is the 
lechero, or milkman. Of all Mexican itinerants he is the most pict- 
uresque and complacent. He sits upon the quarter-deck of his burro, 
resplendent in striped zerape and peaked sombrero, with his cans of 
"leche" covering every available square inch of the patient animal. 
To those who have had experience in riding Mexican burros, however, 
the wonder will be that his milk is not all butter by the time it is de- 
livered. At his side trots his faithful partner, who delivers the requisite 
amount of milk to the portero of each residence. Although the aver- 
age Mexican peons are indeed poor, they are happy and contented, 
and every one who knows Mexico knows also that they get quite as 
much enjoyment out of life as do the American " turistas," who are 
so prone to pity them. 

62 The average American indeed, who goes flitting through the coun- 
try in a personally conducted excursion party, gets a very erroneous 
idea of Mexico and the Mexicans. He sees nothing of the better class 
of people, especially the ladies, for they rarely appear on the streets 
or in public conveyances. The old saying, "A man's house is his 
castle," was never so true as in Mexico. Privacy is the watchword, 
and the houses, with their barred and grated windows, look like pris- 
ons from without. But if you are so fortunate as to obtain an intro- 
duction to these people, and meet them in their homes, you will be 
royally entertained, and will learn what Mexican courtesy and polite- 
ness really mean. The feature of the Mexican house is the patio, or 
inner court. Here, in the very heart of a great city, one has the de- 
lights of a private park in the open air, variegated with fountains, 
plants and flowers, where afternoon tea may be served with an accom- 
paniment of singing birds. And when you take your leave your host 
will say : " Esta es su casa de Vd., y somos sus criados," " This is your 
house, and we are your servants." 

63 Of the patio on a large scale we have a fine example in this view, 
showing the cloisters of what was formerly the Colegio de San Ildefon- 
so, but which is now the Escuela Preparatoria Nacional. Whatever 



19 

profession the Mexican youth desires to enter, with the exception of 
the army, navy, or priesthood, he must first take a four years' course 
at the National Preparatory School. This school accommodates about 
1000 pupils, and the tuition is free, to foreigners as well as Mexicans. 
The collection of trees and shrubbery in the three patios of this great 
institution is doubtless the finest in the city. 

64 But the most valuable and artistic possessions of the Preparatory 
School are the magnificently carved choir stalls in the Ceremonial Hall. 
They are from the choir of the old convent of San Agustin, and orig- 
inally cost a quarter of a million dollars. Mr. Sylvester Baxter, in his 
superb work on Mexican architecture, says of them, " These exquisitely 
beautiful choir stalls are one of the great artistic sights of Mexico, and 
are comparable in charm with the best of similar work in Europe. 
That they were wrought by native Mexican hands is apparent from 
certain touches of local color in various reliefs, such as the depiction 
of monkeys and other tropical animals in scenes like the Garden of 
Eden, including the famous Mexican bird, the Guajamaya." 

65 Nearly all the carvings illustrate some event in Bible history, and 
these two panels represent Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. In 
the panel on the left they are standing beneath the tree of the " knowl- 
edge of good and evil," and Eve is offering to Adam the forbidden 
fruit, while the serpent, coiled about a limb of the tree above, looks 
down in silent approbation. In the right hand panel the angel with 
the flaming sword is expelling the unhappy pair from Paradise. Other 
panels depict the Deluge, the story of Jonah and the whale, and other 
important incidents in Scripture narrative, ending with the Apocalypse. 

66 Nuestra Senora de la Encarnacion was the most magnificent of all 
the convents in Mexico. Its beautiful great cloister still remains intact, 
and reveals the elegance to which convent life was carried in Mexico 
until the laws of the reform put an end alike to convents and monas- 
teries. After the suppression of the religious orders, and the secular- 
ization of their property, this portion of the immense building became 
the National School of Law. It is, perhaps, the finest specimen of the 
patio extant in Mexico. No one would imagine, in looking upon the 
exterior of this building, that within its gloomy and forbidding walls 
such a beautiful and delightful spot could possibly exist. In marked 
contrast to this paradise is the patio of our hotel. 

67 This was formerly a portion of the headquarters of the Franciscan 
order, the oldest and greatest monastery in Mexico, which was built 
on the site of Montezuma's garden and menagerie. From our noctur- 
nal experiences while domiciled here, however, we decide to name it 
" El Patio de los Gatos," The Courtyard of the Tom-cats. The wall 



20 

before us conceals what was once the entrance and facade of the main 
church of San Francisco. On the right is the base of the demolished 
tower, still bearing the marks of the cannonade at the time of the 
intervention. On the left appears one of the three typical domes, 
which still remain intact. 

68 For a view of these, however, we must ascend to the roof of the 
ancient structure. Mexico is preeminently a land of domes. As Mr. 
Baxter says: "Probably no other country in the world, outside the 
Orient, has so many domes — domes in the truest sense of the word, 
arched with solid masonry." This beautiful and picturesque group 
represents a typical form of the Mexican dome, such as may be seen 
literally by the hundred throughout the country. Upon the largest 
dome the original glazed tiles still remain intact, reflecting Mexico's 
perpetual sunshine in countless prismatic tints. As our eyes rest upon 
these domes, which surmount the structure for so many years the 
tomb of Cort£s, may we not, in imagination, recall the image of the 
conqueror as he appeared in life. 

69 In forming our opinion of this great commander we must consider 
the time in which he lived. It has been said that he was cruel, un- 
scrupulous and insincere ; that he made war upon the pagan tribes of 
the new world with sword in one hand and cross in the other, and in 
the assurance of his bigotry raised the hand that was red with the 
blood of the natives to invoke the blessing of Heaven on his cause. 
But in our study of contemporaneous history, and especially Spanish 
history, we find him far in advance of his age and his people. 

70 After Cortes had completely demolished the capital of the Aztecs, 
he set about the reconstruction, on its site, of what is now the City of 
Mexico. While engaged in the supervision of this work he established 
his seat of government at Coyoac&n, a suburb of Mexico, where his 
residence, now the Municipal Palace, is still standing. Over the en- 
trance to this old dwelling, as may be seen in our illustration, is a 
stone shield on which is engraved the conqueror's coat of arms. This 
building exemplifies the massiveness and solidity which characterized 
the architecture of the Spanish at the very outset of their occupation 
of the country. 

71 Far more imposing and elaborate, however, is the residence built 
by Cortes at Cuernavaca. Our picture shows the western entrance, 
which faces a charming little plaza, but the building has been so mod- 
ernized that only the beautiful arcades are now of interest. Although 
Cort£s had completed the conquest he was not to enjoy the fruits of 
his labors. Like Columbus before him, having achieved an exploit 
unparalleled in history, he found himself shorn of his legitimate reward. 



21 

Like Columbus he had the misfortune to deserve too much. So the 
conqueror of Mexico saw its control pass into other hands, and even 
his own military jurisdiction was curtailed and interfered with. This 
was more than the proud and independent spirit of Cortes could en- 
dure. After submitting, for a time, to these indignities, he left the 
City of Mexico, never to return, and retired to private life in this state- 
ly castle at Cuernavaca. 

72 If we pass beneath these central arches, ascend the stairway, and 
emerge upon the eastern arcade, this is what we see. Mr. Frederick 
E. Church, one of the greatest scenic painters America has yet pro- 
duced, justly termed it one of the world's noblest landscapes. At our 
feet lies a foreground of tropical luxuriance, diversified with such ro- 
mantic and picturesque environment as can be found only in Mexico. 
Beyond extends a far-reaching vista of plain, and rugged, rocky head- 
land, while in the distance, culminating all, are the snow-capped sum- 
mits of Popocatepetl and Ixtaccihuatl. From exactly the opposite 
direction we looked upon the further side of these same mountains 
from Cholula's pyramid. They overlooked the scenes associated with 
the earliest achievements of the conqueror. These associations must 
have been strongly recalled to his mind as, toward the close of life, 
his work accomplished, he daily walked this balcony. 

73 The figure of the conquistador, pacing back and forth upon these 
arcades, looking off toward the great volcano, and in memory behold- 
ing the scenes which it recalled of his stormy past, is one which appeals 
powerfully to our imagination. A poet might do worse than attempt 
to portray in verse the analogy between the stern old warrior and this 
grim sentinel of the land he conquered. For it, too, was near extinc- 
tion. The fierce fires of its wonted activity were smouldering low and 
well-nigh extinguished. Its forehead was whitened with the snows 
of many storms that had left deep scars behind them. 

74 And as, toward the close of a summer's day, the clouds gather 
around its storm-swept peak, so the swiftly forming clouds of adver- 
sity even then were enshrouding the conqueror's life. And as the 
increasing gloom presently veils the mountain completely from our 
sight, the curtain falls upon the conqueror's final exit. After a weary 
and fruitless pilgrimage to Spain, in the vain attempt to secure justice 
at the hands of his sovereign, the broken-hearted and disappointed 
old man passed away in the city of Seville. Like Columbus, his ser- 
vices, to the last, were unappreciated and unrequited. Perhaps in a 
better world they may both receive the recompense that was denied 
to them in this. 



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